


Into These Waters

by Nocturne1980



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel, Namor the Sub-Mariner (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Atlantis, Broken Promises, Child Death, Drowning, F/M, Family Secrets, Feud, Kidnapping, Master/Pet, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturne1980/pseuds/Nocturne1980
Summary: T'challa is dead and Shuri cannot do what is needed to protect Wakanda. Namor, ever the opportunist, sees a chance to finally lay claim to all he has ever wanted and no one will stand in his way.
Relationships: Namor the Sub-Mariner/Shuri
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I finish this? Are you guys interested in Shuri x Namor. 
> 
> In this story Namor is a douche because that much is canon. There is mention of child death and others dying during war so be warned. Also, there are strong dominance elements in this story but no non-con sex. Namor isn't that kind of douche.
> 
> Please let me know if you want to read more.

The earthquakes started as barely noticeable tremors, spaced apart so far that it was easy to forget the first from the next. The pattern would have fascinated Shuri not that long ago. She would have eagerly delved in to better understand the source and predict the pattern’s end.

If she weren’t so wrapped in grief she would have done a lot of things differently. Heeded the warnings of their scientists that the earthquakes were dangerous to Wakanda and that they _needed_ to be investigated further to discover the source.

She would have heeded the pleadings of the elders that she take off her mourning and put on the crown, for the good of their people. But Shuri couldn’t think about the good of the people when all she could think about was T’challa and how she’d never see his teasing grin again. His death was a wound to her heart that was incapable of healing, the blood flowed freely refusing to coagulate. It felt as if it poured from her, in great rivers at times, drowning out everything else.

It was a miracle if she got out of the bed most days and they wanted her to proceed with the coronation and take on the mantle of the black panther? She didn’t care. And that hurt too because she knew she should care. T’challa would never be so weak but here she was, suffocating in his absence and expected to just go on.

By the time Shuri finally paid attention the earthquakes were coming quicker and with enough strength to leave mark. The majestic buildings of Birnin Zana swayed and shook, small chunks of the Panther temple breaking apart and falling to the ground. It wasn’t just the shaking of the earth that started to wake her from her numbness, it was the water. The river that split the country nearly in two equal parts was rising, creeping forward at a steady yet alarming rate. The life that lived within was disappearing as well to some unknown place, causing the River Tribe to make daily petitions at the palace for the uncrowned queen to do something.

It was enough to make her finally pay attention but it wasn’t enough to pull her completely from her grief. When the first big earthquake struck Shuri was still in bed, well past the time the rest of Wakanda was up, the capital city of Birnin Zana bustling with activity.

The shifting of the earth woke her from troubled dreams. Dreams of T’challa and everyone she loved slipping from her fingers. The foundation of the palace groaned, terrifying rumbles and creaks followed by scattered screams of citizens seeking shelter wherever they could.

Shuri managed to get out of bed and make her way to the throne room, a strange sort of calm taking over when even the Dora who flanked her wore slightly unnerved looks. It was the most secure place in the palace, the reaching beams and frame triple enforced by vibranium. The glass of the floor was a window to the fledgling crop of heart-shaped herb, recently increased from the few surviving plants after the Mad King Killmonger’s brief reign. They glowed ethereally, a handful of purple specs, from below the vibranium glass.

Two of the elders were already present, holding onto their seats in an attempt to not lose them. Feechi, Wakanda’s lead scientist was sprawled on the floor, holding her position until the tremors weakened enough for her to stand.

“My queen-”

Shuri held up a hand to stop the shorter woman. “I am not yet queen.”

This drew a huff of frustration from the Mining Tribe elder, but she held her tongue none-the-less, giving Shuri the respect her status demanded.

The River Tribe elder wasted no time or niceties pointing out that refusing to take the crown was the reason for this current crisis.

“If you did your duty to your bloodline and Wakanda you would be queen. This is happening because you want to remain a child.” He accused, going so far as to point an accusing finger at Shuri.

“ _Respect!_ ” The Dora snapped at the elder.

“Does she respect her people by refusing to do what tradition and honor demand?” The elder snapped back. His words were punctuated by another weak trembling of the earth. “She wears her pain like an anchor around her neck and it is not only pulling her down but it pulls Wakanda with it!”

“I don’t see how my delay to take the crown has anything to do with this.” Shuri replied. They needed to blame someone for what was happening and why not the one who was supposed to save them?

Feechi cleared her throat. “My qu-princess, the briefing I sent to you shows my findings.”

But Shuri had not reviewed the briefing. Not the most recent one or the several that preceded it.

“Where is Akoye?” Shuri glanced at those around, realizing that the general was missing.

“She is at our eastern borders with a regiment. Something you would have known if you had read any of the briefings sent to you or answered the general’s communications. She has assumed emergency command of our troops while you hide and lick your wounds.” The River Tribe elder gave her a look of disgust which triggered a spark of anger in Shuri.

“The earthquakes and the change to the rivers are not happenstance, my princess.” Feechi looked nervously at the seething River Tribe elder and quickly gave Shuri the information she had tried desperately to get to her for weeks now. “There is a straight path of origins and we have traced it to a massive point in the ocean.”

Shuri stared blankly at the scientist. Her brain always so quick and bright, struggled to piece together what she knew she should. Her silence now after enduring it for so long triggered the Mining Tribe elder’s rage.

“We are under attack! Atlantis has declared war.”

Shuri shook her head in disbelief. None of it made sense. They had knowledge of Atlantis only because T’challa had been sought out by its ruler for an alliance. It was hard to believe that such a thing was even possible, an underwater kingdom as powerful and advanced as Wakanda, hidden from the world for just as long if not longer. But if anyone could believe in such tales it was her people. She never met this Namor, king of Atlantis, but his meeting with T’challa had left a strong impression on her brother. Strong enough that he had ordered increased defenses for Wakanda and had warned Shuri to never go near the ocean, despite the fact that their country was far from it. She still remembered how adamant T’challa was that Shuri give him her promise to not go within a hundred kilometers of ocean waters, gravely waiting until the playful smile was wiped from her face and she promised.

He didn’t speak with her again about Atlantis. There was no talk of an alliance, the only thing her brother let slip about his infamous meeting with Namor was that Atlantis was a sleeping threat that Wakanda should never underestimate. That was a powerful thing coming from the king of Wakanda but no mention was made again of Atlantis and though part of her was curious she forgot when other more pressing threats emerged. Claue, Killmonger, Thanos—any one more concerning than a king she had never set eyes on.

“You must take on the mantle. We need the Black Panther.” The Mining Tribe elder pronounced.

Shuri’s eyes cut to the purple light emanating from below their feet. The last Black Panther was T’challa. Her beloved brother. Gone now. She couldn’t--

“If you don’t, we will be overtaken. There is movement in the waters to the east. Something is marching towards us. Slow but steady. We haven’t been able to identify exactly what it is but it has the formation of an army. We have troops positioned about the river. Whatever is heading our way could possibly enter Wakanda through the river but the opening is too small to be the likely entry point. These quakes could decimate our shields if they get stronger.” Feechi handed Shuri the Pad holding the information she just presented.

The images caused her stomach to drop like a stone. She had deluded herself. There was no safe place to hide from the inevitable. No matter how many battles she fought there would always be another. There would never be rest, not in this life. Darker thoughts fought for opportunity. The same fate that demanded T’challa’s life would also demand others. The approaching army gave testimony.

The anger was something new to feel. Something that burned away the grief and despair. She felt a spark of life at the thought that T’challa had given his life for Wakanda and now fate thought to have it be in vain.

If fate were a tangible thing, a person even better, she would vent all her hurt on it with claws and teeth. Shuri nursed the thought.

And then, as if to add weight to Feechi’s words, the fading tremor didn’t peter out like all the others that followed the larger one. The next came fast and with enough force to still their breath from the shock. The foundations of the palace groaned with greater distress.

Thankfully the elders were seated or else they would have met the floor. It lasted for several long seconds before it lessened only to roll back with more intensity, throwing Feechi and a young Dora warrior to the floor.

Several sizable chunks from the ceiling broke free and crashed to the throne room floor, splitting cracks in the vibranium laced glass floor.

“It is not safe here.” Ayo warned. “We must evacuate.”

Shuri nodded, prompting a Dora to offer her arm to the Mining Tribe elder. All but Shuri hurried out of the throne room and when the senior Dora made to stay Shuri wave a hand commanding her out.

“Go. Get everyone out of the palace.”

“You must come too.”

“You wanted a queen but you can’t follow the orders of a princess? If we are truly under attack then we need the Black Panther. Now go.” The Dora bowed her head solemnly then left Shuri to eye the heart-shaped herb.

She once thought she wanted to be the Black Panther. Had even challenged T’challa for the mantle when she was younger and without true focus. She envied his adventures. That was before she understood the price he paid to save Wakanda time and again. She would have given almost anything to taste of the heart-shaped herb back then.

The priests who tended the garden would not leave the palace even during these unprecedented events. After Killmonger’s attempt at destroying the garden to end the panther legacy for all time, the priests took an oath to never allow the garden to almost be wiped out again. It was against T’challa’s wishes that they take such a grave pledge, but once they had made their promises to Bast there would be no undoing.

oOo

There were still scorch marks on the garden walls from Killmonger’s attempt to make sure there would never be another Black Panther. This hallowed sanctuary had existed centuries before that event. It was illuminated by ancient vibranium torches that lined the walls, no natural light entered except for what little streamed down from the throne room.

The herb was truly a unique species, needing neither sunlight or moonlight to grow or propagate. It didn’t convert energy by photosynthesis but rather a process that involved vibranium as its singular source of energy. The sanctuary was kept dark because it was believed that the panther god Bast would dwell within only in the absence of light, cats being nocturnal.

Grinding the herb in the ceremonial bowl and reciting the ritual words was not necessary to achieve the end she sought. It was pure science. A chemical reaction. It was taught that only those who Bast found worthy could survive the process but Shuri understood that it had more to do with DNA compatibility. Her bloodline could survive the process, that combined with a string of brilliant tactician ancestors ensured that her house sat on the throne from the first black panther.

She knelt down, reverently despite her disbelief in the panther god, plucking one of the glowing flowers with steady hands. The earth rocked around her, threatening to turn her world on its head.

Shuri stuffed her mouth with the plant and chewed quickly. The flower was large and dense enough to fill her cheeks with its substance. It was as flavorful as a handful of lettuce but it heated her mouth and throat as she swallowed. Not spicy but warmth that landed in her stomach and flared out, reaching throughout her body like a strong alcoholic beverage.

There was no time for the burial ritual so that she could rise, reborn, a new creature. The drowsiness the herb triggered hit her along with steady pulses of warmth. Shuri fought it, resisted the desire to close her eyes and give in to the call of the heart-shaped herb. Somehow she made it up and out of the garden sanctuary, and out of the palace as the tremors continued.

She needed to seek a safe place to wait out the transformation. Screams and yelled commands penetrated her lethargic brain. It was hard to focus on what she should. The more she resisted the demand to close her eyes, the more warmth was replaced with budding agony. She braced herself on a column, no longer able to keep her balance.

“--you must come with me.”

Had her eyes closed? Shuri could hear a voice calling to her frantically but she couldn’t place a face to it. Her eyes darted around but all she could see was Wakanda as she had never seen it before. People ran from buildings, some of those buildings breaking apart like biscuits crumbled by a child. The horror of what she was witnessing was numbed by the call of sleep.

“Princess—giv…”

There were open skies above her, no chance of being crushed by the falling debris. She would just close her eyes for a moment and then continue on. Just a brief moment.

_A soothing breeze blew through, cooling pain and uncertainty until there was nothing left but a euphoric calm. When Shuri opened her eyes she was no longer in Wakanda._

_A tie-dye of majestic purples and blues painted the star bright sky. Her feet were firmly on the earth but she felt as if she were flying far above it. Not a building or man-made structure could be seen, only tall grass swaying in the wind and lonely trees dotting the vast endless landscape._

_One was directly in front of her, it’s branches engulfed in dark foliage. Several pairs of glittering gems twinkled back at her. Shuri stepped forward and she found that they were not gems but the gleaming eyes of several great black panthers, each stretched out lazily on a branch. The eyes were intelligent, ancient, otherworldly._

“ _Welcome, little sister.”_

_T’challa._

_He wore white threaded with gold. His beloved face full of the life and vitally it had lack in his last moments on earth before he left her and all the people who loved him. A shocked sob burst forth and she went to him, throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him tight to her for fear that he would disappear at any moment._

“ _It’s okay, Shuri. I’m not going anywhere.”_

_She squeezed him tighter, shaking her head buried in his shoulder._

“ _I have missed you so much, brother.”_

“ _You have missed me **too** much. You have stopped living as you should. Don’t you know that when you continue on then I live on in you?” _

_She nodded and after a few moments pulled back, wiping the tears on her cheek with the palm of her hand._

“ _I never imagined I’d be without you.” She confessed._

“ _It’s easy to never think about such things. But we all have to go and what comes after is beyond what you can currently understand. But I am happy to see you have come here. It means you are finally moving forward.”_

“ _Not because I want to T’challa. I’m here because I was forced to. Wakanda is under attack. Namor-”_

“ _Is an asshole and talking about him won’t lessen that fact.”_

_Shuri looked up at T’challa’s smiling face with shock. A giggle bubbled up. She had never heard him swear while he was alive._

“ _You just swore.”_

“ _It took a while but my little sister finally_ _rubbed_ _off on me.” He teased._

_Just to see his smiling face again was worth it. To joke with him like this, such a familiar part of her life she’d felt so empty and lost without it. She never wanted to leave this place that was untouched by the pain and reality of living._

“ _I love you.”_

_T’challa squeezed her shoulder with affection. “I love you too.”_

_She forgot what she wanted to tell him, too overcome with love and longing. She hugged him again, well aware that she couldn’t stay there forever._


	2. Chapter 2

She awoke to a ringing, louder than the fleeting screams. Louder than the crumbling buildings and louder than the waves crashing into Birnin Zana, a once impenetrable city. It silenced all of everything and left Shuri with only the deafening ring as a soundtrack to Wakanda’s destruction.

She had awakened from a lovely dream to be faced with her worst nightmare. It felt much longer than a few seconds, her eyes scanning the destruction and chaos, her braining rallying and urging her into action. The palace sat slightly above the rest of the city, ensuring that the worst of the tumbling waves didn’t reach it, which would buy Shuri enough time, she hoped, to get to her bedroom where she kept the necklace encasing a panther suit she had made years ago. 

She shook off the terror that kept her frozen and allowed adrenaline and the heart-shaped herb coursing through her bloodstream to propel her feet towards an entrance. With each step she ran, Shuri became more focused, more determined, and less confused. The city was under attack and if Birnin Zana fell, then all of Wakanda could possibly be lost to these invaders. The city needed to be evacuated and Shuri needed to strike back at Atlantis somehow. The first step was getting the necklace.

She realized the earthquakes had stopped in favor of the fresh hell Atlantis was sending their way. From the ceiling-high windows in her bedroom, she could see that it wasn’t just water that was rushing into the city. Humanoid creatures the likes of which she had never seen were springing forth from the water, great spears and glowing swords in hand. The Dora charged forward, yelling their battle cry, some losing their footing as water continued to crash forward.

She turned from the scene to locate the necklace that would give her armor for battle. It was more delicate than T’challa’s, the shining panther teeth black instead of silver. She slipped it over her head and activated the suit, black vibranium material encasing her from head to toe. She wasted no time, diving out of the open window, pointing her hands forward to break the water below.

The suit allowed her to see clearly in the water. She spied a Dora being dragged below by what looked to be more fish than man. Shuri kicked her feet until she was close enough to slash her claws across the creature's neck, severing its head from its body and freeing the Dora. Both women broke the surface of the water at the same time, the Dora gasping for air.

“Retreat to the mountains. Get as many to safety as you can.” Shuri commanded the young guard and turned without question after giving a nod of confirmation.

Shuri freed three more from the creatures, two citizens and another Dora. Others floated in the waters, their lifeless bodies evidence of how ruthless the Atlantians were, sparing no one they got their hands on. Even children were fair game.

Seeing a child of no more than five, face down in the water was not a sight she would ever forget.

She slashed through the invaders, each blow a killing one. Those who could, got to higher ground. In the distance, Shuri could see a mass of people making their way towards the mountains, Dora flanking them, fighting off the creatures who followed. There were still Wakandans in the city. Those who hadn’t been able to get ahead of the water.

Shuri fought on. For hours it seemed and eventually the waters receded. The streets of the city were a water color of red, bodies of Wakandans and Atlantians dotting the once pristine streets.

Her breathing was labored. Perspiration formed under her suit.

No living foe could be seen. For a brief moment, Shuri thought she had killed them all. There certainly was enough blood for it. Her hands curled, ready to strike out, shook. Tears threatened. All around her was ruin.

Those who had sought shelter on rooftops stared down her Shuri, their eyes filled with anguish that matched her own. She turned around to see them all, silent as they all took stalk of the aftermath of the invasion.

But it was not the aftermath. The invasion had only just begun.

“I, Namor, King of Atlantis hereby claim Wakanda as a territory of my kingdom. By right of challenge win," the voice bellowed, all the authority and haughtiness of a conqueror who had never seen defeat. Shuri turned to see the owner of that voice swaggering towards her, a legion of Atlantians several paces behind him.

Even from that distance, she could see that he was tall, his broad shoulders covered in black plated armor, chest and torso naked as if he feared no deadly strike hitting home. Twin armor gauntlets encased his hands but it all appeared more ornamental than practical. Dark hair fell across his forehead dripping water into his face. He didn’t blink or flinch when it hit his open eyes. And those eyes raked over her arrogantly, confident in his victory. He held a golden trident carelessly in one hand as if it wasn’t necessary to defeat his foe but he liked the feel of it where it was.

Everything about him was arrogant and despicable to her. He stepped over the body of one of her people without even looking down to see the damage his people had caused. The growl came forth without a thought. Now her rage had a focal point. A true target to spend upon.

“There is no challenge loss, invader. You are not Wakandan to even issue such a challenge.”

“Thank Poseidon.” He huffed in affront and Shuri hadn’t known it was possible to burn with anger until that moment. “My challenge is by right as a conqueror. Conquer because an agreement was broken between kings. Had T’challa done what was expected of him I would not be here fulfilling the promise I made should he be so foolish as to share Wakanda’s knowledge with the surface dwellers. Not only did he make Wakanda vulnerable by helping those savages, but he also exposed Atlantis. _Then_ he had the audacity to get himself killed, leaving Wakanda open to attack because the next ruler refused to step forward. Never fear, I will take on this responsibility--since you refused. And if the world wants a taste of Wakanda’s technology I will be happy to accommodate.”

The smirk twisting his lip left no misunderstanding as to just how he planned to share that tech.

“And you think I’m just going to let you take my country?”

His smirk morphed into a smile and Shuri learned the king of Atlantis had a dimple. She planned on carving it out

“I suppose you’ll try to stop me. I expect no less. You will fail and I will still accomplish what I’ve set out to do. Wakanda will be better off with me as its ruler rather than an unsure girl who could not be bothered to save her country until it was too late. Better me now than the humans later. You should be thanking me, really. You’re welcome.”

“You killed innocent people. Children.”

“What do the surface dwellers say? You have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet. Certainly, you don’t expect an _invader_ to invade nicely. But if you need feet to lay your blame at, turn to the grave of your dear brother. He brought this upon you. I don’t regret the few lives sacrificed to protect Atlantis. I only regret that it wasn’t me who sent T’challa into the next life.”

And with that Shuri launched herself forward, claws reaching for the smirking king’s throat, as an ugly battle cry ripped from her throat.


	3. Chapter 3

He dragged her into the water. She would not be carried, though he’d tried. It was the only act she could manage to oppose the might of his incomparable strength. She had never felt such power contained within the coil of mortal flesh. If the stakes had not been so high she might have found dark humor in how unevenly matched they were.

Her only advantage had been her speed. But it wasn’t enough. Not with her panther suit and not with the abilities given to her by the heart-shaped herb.

A grip that was immovable as vibranium locked around her wrist and then another around her neck. He held her at bay, none of her strikes hitting home. He could snap her neck with very little effort and yet all he did was hold there, preventing her from attacking him. His face was impassive but a fire burned in his eyes. Eyes so deep brown that they appeared black. Eyes shaped like so many in any number of Asian countries. But he originated from Atlantis. A place believed only to be a myth.

He didn’t kill her. He gave her one long indiscernible look, blinking slowly as if he was communicating something to her. The only thing Shuri understood was that she couldn’t beat him. Not without truly reassessing her foe, something impossible to do at the moment. It was just further evidence of how wholly unsuited she was to the position of black panther. T’challa would not need to regroup. He would know what to do to save Wakanda.

She resisted when he dragged her into the legion of soldiers. She neither slowed nor stopped him. He continued to pull her towards the water. Water that came from the flooded river. Water too salty to have its source from it.

_He meant to drown her_.

She continued to resist, trying to dig her heels into the dirt, clawing at the hands that held her, pulling her along to an unfitting fate.

“I will not let you take Wakanda.” She declared. 

“You cannot even stop me from taking you.”

The closer he took them to the waters murky edge the more bravery seemed such an unbalanced thing. Her suit was not designed to sustain life beyond a few minutes in the water. Thirty minutes maximum.

Her eyes were wide with panic beneath her panther mask. Namor’s warriors watched their king drag her to the water, their faces hard, eyes bloodthirsty. Her feet slipped as she continued to struggle, splashing now as Namor continued on, in no particular hurry to see her dead.

The suit's temperature regulators kept her from feeling the cold of the water.

“Wait!” She cried when the water was to her chin. “You can’t kill me and hope to rule Wakanda. My people will never follow my murderer.”

He stopped, lifting her onto her feet so they both stood.

“They followed the mad king Killmonger. He killed your brother, didn’t he? Granted he didn’t stay dead, but they didn’t know that as they chose his murderer over you. Wakanda respects might and I have just shown them a mere fraction of mine. I am neither insane nor will I be your murderer. They will follow me just as you will. Shall I demonstrate?”

There was nothing she could do to stop him from pulling her under. Water rushed over her head. She didn’t believe it was possible but Namor’s control of her increased as if the water amplified his power. He pulled her to him, trapping her claws between their bodies against his chest. He held her easily with one hand, the other a guide as he swam with alarming speed down, down into the dark depths.

She should have focused on conserving her oxygen supply instead of hyperventilating. She should have designed the suit to handle more than the thirty minutes that was counting down before her eyes. It was a frightening thing to behold, the world gone a watery grave. The sounds of rushing water as Namor propelled them down, twisting and turning in ways no human could hope to mimic.

It was like falling from a great height. Knowing that the Earth awaited you at the end of it.

Shuri tried to free her hands to no avail. She called his name but if he heard her he gave no indication. He was set on his course. Closing her eyes temporarily blinded her to the suit’s screens telling her she had seventeen minutes and thirty-two seconds of oxygen left. She fought to calm her breathing, to gather her composure for death. She would not die begging this villain for mercy.

Shuri thought about her trip to the ancestral plains. She’d be back very soon. She tried not to think about Wakanda as fallen, about her people fleeing to Jabari lands, or about the suffering Namor was sure to bring when Wakanda resisted his rule. If she thought too hard on these things in her last moments she would beg and Namor had already shown that he had no mercy to give.

Once she had accepted what was to come she relaxed in her executioner’s arms. Accepting that there was nothing she could do to escape this stole all anger and hatred. It made what was about to happen feel inevitable. So when Namor used his free hand to rip the panther necklace from her neck, deactivating her suit and the only thing between her and drowning, Shuri didn’t startle.

Her eyes were closed and she held her breath, waiting for the involuntarily in-draw her body would force to keep itself alive. When it came it wasn’t water that rushed into her lungs. Instead, warm lips sealed around hers and air filled her lungs. Her eyes opened but she could see nothing, only feel Namor wrapped around her, filling her with breath from his own body.

The intimacy of the exchange was far more shocking than the cold water causing her to tremble in his arms. He didn’t need his eyes it would seem to guide them where he meant to go. Not once did he slow his swimming. Having her to tend to didn’t have an impact on his navigation.

She had been ready to die but now it seemed that wasn’t to be. For now.

She was out of her element, entirely vulnerable and dependent on Namor’s whim. He wasn’t going to drown her but she couldn’t be sure if what he had planned for her wouldn't be worse. Her fists tightened against the naked skin of his chest, wishing she had something to hold onto so she didn’t feel so out of control. She wouldn’t hold onto him no matter how much her fear drew her to do so.

They traveled like this until the cold and pressure of the water became too much for her. She could feel herself slipping into a different kind of blackness, that of unconsciousness. Before she succumbed she felt his hand go to the back of her neck, ensuring that the seal of their lips wasn’t broken.

oOo

She woke up shivering in a puddle of water, her clothes clinging to her goosebump covered skin. Soft blue light greeted her but it wasn’t the blue of a morning sky. She was surrounded by curved glass, water on the other side of it along with the light. It glowed from fixtures in what appeared to be a throne room.

Her legs shook as she tried to stand. There wasn’t enough room inside the glass dome to stretch to her full height and Shuri was left with the comparison of being a fish inside of a too-small bowl.

A massive shell inlaid with gold and iridescent stripes sat upon a dais. The arms were as if carved from one pearl. The room was just as resplendent as her own throne room, perhaps even more so since it was alien and a marvel of engineering feats. The floors were like a pearl. A rainbow of coral was woven to make intelligent patterns on the stretching walls. Scenes of battles, victories no doubt. Golden tridents accented the scenes.

The room was empty except for the lone human woman who studied it with the fascination of one of Earth’s greatest minds. She breathed deeply, drawing in the pure crisp air. There was no mechanism that she could see that explained how she was able to breathe in the dome. When Shuri pressed her palms against the glass to test its strength it dipped forward before bouncing back into place. Not glass, something else.

She had so many questions.

The movement of shadow from the corner of her eye preceded Namor’s appearance. His armor was gone, shoulders and arms bare except for matching golden cuffs on either wrist. He wore only green-scaled briefs that would have looked ridiculous on any other man, but he was not a man. He swam nimbly around her cage with his eyes locked on hers as she turned to follow him.

“How do you like your accommodations, your highness?” His voice had an otherworldly sound as it traveled through the water and past the dome.

“This is Atlantis?” Not that she needed him to confirm it but she couldn’t think of anything else to say, couldn’t answer his facetious question.

“Yes. You are seeing what no human eyes have seen before. Not many Atlantians can say they’ve seen the great king’s throne room. See how I have honored you?” He continued to swim around her.

“What are your intentions?”

He smirked, not at all bothered that she refused to answer his questions.

“I prefer to show you my intentions but perhaps I could be persuaded to relent if you engage me, humor me. When you were a child did you have a pet?”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Here she was imprisoned at the bottom of the ocean by a being of myth and instead of asking her for Wakanda’s military access codes he wanted to know if she had a childhood pet? She didn’t detect madness in his piercing dark eyes. No, there was much intelligence there.

“No, I never had a pet.”

“Surely a pampered princess such as you were given a pony or some other creature to look after.”

She’d wanted a pet but contrary to what he thought she was not some pampered princess who was given everything her heart settled on. She was of the panther line and panthers were predators, they did not keep pets.

“No? Well, when I was a boy I wanted a kitten. Imagine a child such as I was wanting something that could not live its life at the bottom of the deep blue sea. I wanted something I could not only nurture but something I could tame. My mother tried to placate me with other things but all of the creatures in the water obey my command which while useful...was so boringly unsatisfying.”

“How sad.” Shuri snipped.

“I know," he agreed. "I have always been intrigued by the creatures of the surface world. From time to time I visit your world just to take in the sights. Over the centuries, those beautiful places and creatures began to diminish. Wiped out by the carelessness and greed of humanity.”

_Centuries._ Was he even mortal? This new information added to the quiet terror she tried to squash down. Just how old was he? What _was_ he?

“Wakanda is one of the few places that remains nearly untouched. I have visited your home often. On one such visit, I saw something I wanted very much. A little panther cub playing in the river.” A smile stretched across his handsome face as he reminisced, still swimming around her. “I thought to take you then but I made the mistake of thinking your brother would want to settle things in a traditional fashion. Alliances are powerful things and who more powerful an ally than Atlantis? He wouldn’t even consider my offer. He insulted me and my house and he only walked away from that encounter alive because I knew you would never be what I wanted you to be if he died by my hands.”

Shuri inhaled a shocked breath at his confession. She shook her head in denial. It couldn’t be. She ruthlessly quieted the voice that said Wakanda's ruin was all because of her on many fronts.

“I wanted to make you my queen but I have since changed my mind. Your people are incapable of appreciating the honor I would bestow upon you. So I rescind my offer and present you with a new one. I will let you go from your prison but you must find your own way to the surface. I promise you there are many leagues between here and it. You’re sure to die, which would be a pity. Or, you can remain here willingly, as my pet. My own darling kitten to be pampered and adored.”

He stopped swimming to float in front of her, her head now dizzy just as much from his words as his constant motion. The mocking smirk was gone from his lips as he waited for her to seriously consider his outlandish offer.

He presented it as if she truly had a choice when they both knew there was none. If she chose freedom she had no doubt he would remove her from the cage right then and there and allow her to die in his throne room as he watched on. If she chose to be his pet...what in the hell did that entail? Death or slavery.

She wouldn’t choose death. There was always the chance that she could escape him one day. Once she learned more, got access to resources outside the confines of her prison. She gritted her teeth, hating him for what he’d done to Wakanda and what he planned to do to her. This was his way of humiliating her, getting back at T’challa for not bowing to his wishes.

“What do you chose?”

“I don’t want to die.” She croaked out, not able to say with clear words she was choosing his bondage.

He grunted. “I require proof of your submission.” Namor brought his hand up and Shuri could see that he clutched something in it. He stretched it forward and breached the dome letting in a splash of water with it. When his palm unfurled Shuri saw he held a black velvet choker with a single dark gray pearl attached to it. A collar. A beautiful collar for a king’s pet. She swallowed the bile that burned her throat as she took the collar and put it on.

He looked beyond pleased, a sinister gleam in his eye as he studied the pearl at her throat. She knew she was just preserving her life to fight another day when she was better equipped to face her foe, but Shuri was overcome with shame. Somehow she felt like she was betraying Wakanda by allowing Namor this small victory. Giving him an inch felt dangerous and foolish. The collar sat wet and heavy around her throat.

“Good girl.” He purred.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a bizarre thing being held captive at the bottom of the ocean. Shuri imaged she was the first human alive to get an up-close and personal experience of what it must be like to be a goldfish kept on a child’s dresser. Except it wasn’t a child that kept her. It was the king of Atlantis.

She was left alone for hours in her prison but it wasn’t to be for long. She began counting days by movement within the throne room. Each day Namor held court, sitting upon his exquisitely made throne with lazy grace, a leg stretched out and his chin resting on his fist as petitions were brought before him. The casual observer would note that he appeared bored but Shuri was no casual observer. She was a prisoner of war whose freedom dependent upon her ability to know her captor and prison. It was imperative that she read her captor correctly, that she took pains to understand his moods and whims. He may have given the appearance of one bored with the daily ins and outs of monarchy but Shuri could discern he was anything but.

His eyes forever strayed to her trapped in her bubble, pacing about it like the caged panther she was. When his eyes caught hers she could see the anticipation there, the alert awareness.

Between these speaking glances, Shuri took note of the Atlanteans that came into the throne room. Overall they were a singular race, blue skin, and not that different in appearance from humans. Though, they had gills on the sides of their necks and webbed hands and feet. They didn’t wear shoes and some went without any clothing at all. Others were dressed just as sparsely as their king. Everyone that came into the throne room bowed deeply to Namor, showing honor. They all took a look at Shuri suspended within her prison, their eyes neither hostile or condemning as if she were a somewhat fascinating new piece of decoration.

Namor would not speak to her outside of when he personally saw her fed. He insisted that she eat the food offered to her directly from his hand. She didn’t doubt that his intent was to humble her with such an act. Sometimes he would do it when his court was in full session, all about watching as the king fed his human pet.

It didn’t take long before her captivity started to have an effect on her mental state. Surrounded by an endless expanse of water, no sun to give balance instead of the soft glow of giant pearls and coral. She was all too aware that the only thing keeping her alive was the confines of her cage and the will of Namor. She hadn’t yet cracked the technology that was keeping her imprisoned, but she was determined to.

Court was in session, the throne room filled with what Shuri had gathered was Atlantis’ aristocracy. From time to time Namor would speak in English, for her benefit no doubt, but most of the exchanges were in a language unlike anything she’d ever heard. These Atlanteans held their heads proudly, almost as arrogant as Namor in their posture. They were not as subservient as those who came to petition Namor previously. One in particular, a male whose blue skin was lined with striking gold stripes, swam forward to speak words to Namor that didn’t need to be translated to reveal an insult was within.

Namor slouched on his throne, appearing as uninterested as he usually did, all a deception. Shuri could see the subtle change when the gold striped male spoke. A shifting of one foot, a barely perceivable raising of a brow. Whatever the male said, Namor fairly radiated ire. Shuri didn’t have long to wait before Namor made her aware that the exchange had been about her.

Namor spoke what sounded like a command and the male turned his black eyes on Shuri, malice pinning her like daggers.

“She is not one of us as evident by how you must keep her. And how you keep her is shameful. How can you say she is a queen but you display her like a captured concubine.” The male spoke in heavily accented English.

“Basilius, thread carefully. What I do with what is mine is not up for criticism from my _subjects_.” Namor stressed the last word as if to remind the male who was king.

“Maybe it should when what you do effects all of Atlantis. How can your offspring hold their heads with pride when what you do now will forever be spoken of? You are not thinking clearly and perhaps she has clouded your judgment. My sister would have-”

Namor sat up only to lean forward menacingly, all trace of the aloof ruler replaced with a hardness in his eyes that promised if Basilius continued what he was going to say next there would be dire consequences. There was a quiet chattering of the court up until this point, now all were silent, the throne room charged with anxious expectation. All seeming to understand that the striped male had perhaps gone too far.

Basilius stopped talking mid-sentence.

“Your sister will never be spoken of in my presence again. Or was my lenient handling of her not satisfactory? Would you have me remember her crimes and rethink my decision?”

The male’s face flushed a darker shade of blue before he stiffly bowed to Namor, humbling himself even though Shuri could see his posture was not one of contrition.

“Forgive my impertinence, your majesty.”

Namor snorted, and relaxed back into his throne. “I’m expected to forgive much these days. I’m also expected to explain myself to a lord whose family received what they have because I chose to give it to them. A family who couldn’t control one unruly daughter. All you need to understand is that this one here,” he motioned towards Shuri drawing all eyes to her. “Will remain where she is until I deem otherwise and anyone who seeks to change her position will not be treated as Cassia was. I will show no mercy.” He paused, with great effect before finishing. “All this talk has put me in a foul mood. Leave.”

And that was the closing of court, as all of the lords and ladies swam out of the throne room with all due haste, each eager to escape the presence of their king.

Namor continued to sit, eyes facing the retreating crowd until they were all gone. When the throne room was empty he spoke.

“At least some of my people think you shouldn’t be kept imprisoned.”

“How would it benefit you for me to know that?” He wanted her to know what was said between him and Basilius. That the Atlantean could speak a human language was a question for another time, though her curious mind was buzzing with logical reasons why.

“I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

Instead of swimming up to her he drew her cell to him. “It will be easier for you if you accept things as they are, not as they appear to be. None of my people will help you get to the surface. I don’t want you harboring that false hope. Some want to see you out of your cage, free to roam Atlantis. Some want to see you dead. I can’t be certain someone won’t try the latter. Right here is really the safest place for you.”

Nothing about this place felt safe. Not the penetrable bubble cell. Not the fantastical and frightening creatures that she could see swimming outside the breaks in coral of the palace walls. Certainly not Namor. She tried her damnedest not to think about the reasons he revealed for taking her but Shuri was never one to run from the truth. She couldn’t reconcile that Namor had lied. It made sense that T’challa had turned down his request to marry her. It also made sense that her brother wouldn’t tell her about it. T’challa’s silence about Namor when she quizzed her brother was merely the vain efforts of a loving sibling trying to protect his sister from a dangerous man. Everything made sense in light of Namor’s claim.

“On the surface is the safest place for me.”

“You will never see the surface again.” His response was softly spoken, like he wanted to gentle the news but there was contradiction there. His eyes dared her to respond, dared her to deny it. She refused. He could decree all he wanted to his people. She was not one of them and she was not about to argue the point.

“How can an Atlantean speak English? You and that—man, you both speak a language you can’t have a use for down here.”

The smile he gave was mischievous. “We don’t have a need down here but as I’ve already mentioned, I have been to your world many times”

“Do you know other human languages?”

“I _know twenty-seven._ ” He said in near-perfect Xhosa.

“Then why do you speak only in English to me?”

“Why do you speak only in English to me?” He parried. “I will speak in which every language you wish. Atlanteans are comfortable speaking many tongues.”

“What happened to Cassia?”

“You mention that name as if I had not warned my entire court not to. Aren’t you afraid I will punish you for disobeying me?”

He swam up, looking down on her, his black hair a waving halo. She knew he sought to appear it but the most intimidating thing that dominated her world was his. Though he had defeated her on land and she wouldn’t stand a chance in his element, it was the water that frightened her not him.

“Will you?”

He studied her like he was truly weighing whether he would punish her or not.

“No. But neither will I answer your question.”

Then he left her alone once more, with nothing but her thoughts and the gentle movement of water to keep her company.


End file.
